


Written in Blood with Love

by Eskayrobot, Poaxath



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Forced Pregnancy, Murder is a love language, Partners in Crime, Rey's cool with it because she doesn't know, Sappy fluff that shouldn't belong to a murderer, Smut, The couple that slays together...stays together?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2019-12-31 21:36:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18322409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eskayrobot/pseuds/Eskayrobot, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poaxath/pseuds/Poaxath
Summary: Rey's a writer, working on her murder mystery novel. She meets Ben in an online chatroom and they begin speaking and swapping various ideas for books and then moving in together, because Ben's an author too—right?Based on a random Tumblr prompt.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we gooooooo. This doc has been sitting around, begging to be posted for months. So here it is! Finally.

 

 

* * *

 

Everyone seemed to meet their significant other on the internet these days. Whether it was through dating apps, matching websites, or Facebook or Instagram recommendations, meeting your future love through a screen first was incredibly commonplace. So Rey really had no shame when she happily proclaimed that she had met her newly live-in boyfriend, the wonderful Ben Solo, on a chat forum. She was an aspiring thriller novel writer and he'd been so helpful answering her questions, and she'd been thrilled to offer him some help as well, in return, with his own writing. When they'd moved to DMs, it had only taken a bit of casual banter to realize that they only lived ten miles apart. _Ten_ _miles!_ Rey had been ecstatic to learn that her helpful fellow author had been within driving, or even biking distance, and she'd excitedly set up a coffee date, picking somewhere local, of course, because she wasn't _that_ crazy.

Ben Solo had not at all been who she expected, and that was even better news than his close proximity. She'd expected an older man, gray of beard and balding of head, maybe with a bit of a soft dad tummy. What she'd _gotten_ was a mere decade older sex-on-a-stick Adonis. Ben was every inch of his six foot three, his shoulders and chest broad with muscles, his hands so _wonderfully_ large. He had a beautiful mane of wild dark waves and only sometimes sported a black goatee and mustache, although this was promptly shaved when Rey expressed disliking it against her more _sensitive_ skin.

It had only taken three of these fun little brainstorm dates to morph into _actual_ dates. They'd kept those mostly tame, just holding hands and soft kisses, like they were teenagers again. It wasn't until they were into their fourth month of actual dating when things became more heated, all the pent-up sexual energy let loose as they stumbled into her apartment after a steaming elevator kiss where she'd launched herself at him, unable to help it anymore. He'd taken her standing up, her back pressed her front door, her shaking legs locked around his waist. It had been the best orgasm _ever_. After that, they couldn't keep their hands off. They fucked every chance they got, in the morning, afternoon, and evening, desecrating every last inch of her apartment. They'd done that for nearly two months when Rey proposed that they just move in together, and to her utter joy, he agreed. Free from both of their leases one month later, they finally moved in to their new place and set about desecrating _there._ Rey had never been happier.

Her one and only frustration with Ben was his refusal to show her his work, but she supposed she could respect that. She hadn’t shown him her writing, either, but he could at _least_ say who his publisher was. She had no idea who or what his previous publisher, Snoke, was. She'd never heard of them.

Her friends hardly could argue with her fast infatuation. Not even Poe, her police point man for factual information turned best friend, could find a fault in the relationship. He liked Ben, and he liked that Ben liked Rey enough to dote on her endlessly and kept her safe. There was a serial killer on the loose in their city, after all, and curious little Rey loved poking around in dangerous places in the name of accuracy in her writings. It had driven Poe mad for awhile, but he felt soothed knowing that Ben was like a constant shadow, far too lost in his love for the tiny brunette to let her wander anywhere dangerous alone.

Rose thought it was utterly adorable, swooning constantly at the way Ben was always touching Rey, whether it was an arm around her waist, a hand on the small of her back, his chin on her shoulder. Rose demanded that her love be more like that and her boyfriend just rolled his eyes. She was getting _enough_ love.

Finn thought it was a _touch_ possessive, but if it kept their Rey safe, he didn't mind. Rey had her big, hulking boyfriend to keep her safe from what went stabby-stab in the night. What more could they want from Ben than that?

Rey, meanwhile, was over the moon. She had a boyfriend she was heads over heels for and her publisher was _finally_ believing in her work. Ben was her whole world, her guardian angel and her good luck charm, and she couldn't be happier to have him in her life.

 

* * *

 

The internet had been the perfect place to prowl, an ideal set up for selecting prey. Ben, or rather, his alias Kylo Ren, enjoyed the cat and mouse game it provided, he liked the ability to tease his victims before striking. He plied them with sweet promises and tempting offers before finally making the move, the kill just as sweet as the hunt.

The forum had been an interesting experiment, a way to see what others in the game were doing. It didn't hurt to stay up-to-date on the craft, as his mentor had taught him. Hidden IP addresses and bouncing routers abound, he trolled around the forum before he found Reyne_or_sunshine, which he thought was almost too cutesy of a name. So cutesy, in fact, that he decided to give her a look. She wasn't particularly _good_ at hiding where she was, as he found her immediately, hacking into her cam with relative ease.

He hadn't expected her to live so close (since when was someone else encroaching on his territory?). And he _definitely_ hadn't expected her to be so hot. She was the unassuming kind of hot, the kind who didn't dress it up too much or really hide it. She was sitting in front of her desktop in a tank top and tiny little shorts and Ben... _fuck._ A hot territory crasher? Not at all what he expected.

He was stunned when she'd suggested the coffee date, but he'd gone along with it, curious at the types of games she played. He almost wanted to warn her to wipe her search history more often, but he didn't want her to know that he knew. So he kept meeting with her...because it was good for business, obviously. When their coffee size-ups turned into dinner meetings, he'd been even more intrigued. She played the long con very well, and she was just so fucking hot, he'd murdered a brunette just in her stead. That girl hardly compared to Rey, but it had at least slaked that lust.

And then there was the _actual_ lust. He couldn't believe he'd lasted as long as he had, but a dam broke loose that evening when she'd kissed him in the elevator and he'd been surprised he waited to sheath himself inside of her until they closed her door, his cock in her hot cunt suddenly far more appealing to him than his knife in her hot body. After that, he was done for. He couldn't kill this one, he wanted to _keep_ her. He wanted her to be his and only his. He wanted to fuck her every chance he got and touch her when he couldn't. He had never been this obsessed, and he'd plotted the murder of his own mentor for _five years_. But Rey was his and he was intent on keeping it that way. She could murder anyone she wanted in what was rightfully his territory, he didn't care. She'd be his precious murder girlfriend and that was that.

It helped that her best friend was that incompetent police chief, Dameron. He couldn't even detect two murderers under his nose! And Rey, the cheeky, sexy little murder minx she was, even bragged about her methods right in front of the man! He and all of her silly little friends would just laugh it off, as if their sweet little Rey could never be capable of it. But, as Ben shrugged, keep your enemies closer, right? She'd clearly perfected it and he was impressed. Yes, she was perfect.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Ben?” Rey called through their apartment, currently bent over her laptop with an ungodly amount of coffee situated next to her. Italian sweet creamer, thank _you._ That whole thing about writers needing to drink their coffee black was a myth. Everyone knew that your brain worked like a billion times better with diabetes-inducing coffee creamer.

“What's up, sweetheart?” he asked, coming into the living room not but a moment later. He leaned down to press a kiss to her temple, holding his own coffee high above to prevent from harming her. He almost couldn't believe he'd entertained the thought. He wondered if she ever did? What kind of victims did she even prefer?

“Okay, so. Question: do you happen to know how long someone can be buried alive before they die? I'm working on a new scene,” she beamed, flipping through the notepad on the side of the laptop.

He smirked down at her. It was adorable how she planned everything out. It was like she was a little playwright, so excited for the production that was ending the life of someone who was _so_ beneath her.

Hell, who was Ben kidding? Everyone was beneath her. She was a goddess on high. Buried alive? He could feel himself getting hard already.

“Anywhere from five to six hours,” he supplied as he settled down on the opposite end of the couch from her. “It all depends on what they are buried inside of, and how much volume they have for air.”

Why had he ever thought of taking her down? It was so _nice_ to have someone to discuss these things with. She would just smile at him, those beautiful hazel eyes so sweet and understanding and loving. She was the angel he never deserved.

“Say they're in a coffin. A perfectly fitting coffin, like it had been made specifically for them,” she explained, using her hands for added effect as she traced the shapes of coffins in the air before her.

Life with Ben was ridiculously perfect. Ridiculously. He was big on fitness, just like her, and in between their morning runs and other calorie-burning extracurricular activities, he was just the absolute fucking _sweetest_ thing to her. Years of a shady childhood had taught her that she probably shouldn't be as attached as she was to him this soon, but she couldn't find it within herself to give a damn.

“Five, then. And with dirt atop, there is nothing they can do to free themselves. Perfectly trapped,” he grinned. It had been so long since he'd killed someone like that, he'd been so young.

Suddenly, he had an idea.

“Hey, Rey?”

“Hmm?” she asked absently, quickly writing down what he'd said about timeframes and air consumption.

“What if we—and I hope you don't think I'm trying to take over or anything, because, I'll happily follow your lead—but what if we collaborated?” he asked, his eyes hopeful. He hadn't team killed since he was under Snoke and he had to admit that there was a certain thrill to sharing it with someone else. And to share it with the love of his life, his perfect Rey…

Oh, he was definitely hard.

Turning her attention up to him, she frowned softly, taking in his hopeful expression.

“You...you want to work with me?” she asked cautiously. “I thought you hated what I do.”

“What? No, no! I just...I never wanted our work to get mistaken for each others, that was all. If it got out that we live together, _are_ together, then we could be accused together and I just—” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “But if we do it together on purpose, everyone will _know_. It will be like, I dunno, something to cement us as a couple? Forever?”

“You're so adorable when you're nervous,” she smiled, leaning over to smash her mouth against his. When she pulled back a moment later with a little grin, she said, “I think it could be really fun to work together. I'm always throwing my ideas out there and it would be nice to hear some of yours.”

“That sounds amazing, sweetheart,” he grinned, elated. “Now put your laptop down and come over here on mine. It's time to get those _creative juices_ flowing,” he purred lowly.

Repressing a shiver at how deliciously dark he always sounded when he spoke so lowly like that, she wondered for a moment if maybe he practiced it in the mirror every morning. She hadn't caught him doing it...yet, but no one just naturally sounded that amazing.

Pushing her laptop to the coffee table, she scooted towards him, casually slinging one leg over his and pulling herself onto his lap. It was definitely hard to miss the raging erection he had, and as she scooted up a bit further until it was pressed against the front of her through their clothes, she asked with a smile, “Oh, you like the idea of working together that much, do you? Look how hard you are, baby.” She reached one hand down between them to palm him gently, enjoying every little twitch and throb she could feel through the denim of his jeans.

He grunted, thrusting up into her sweet little hand. He wondered if she'd ever strangled someone with those sweet little hands of hers. He wondered if she'd choke him.

“Just for you, baby. Just for my smoking hot fucking girlfriend who wants to make an impact on the world with me. Fuck, baby, you're so fucking hot,” he growled lowly. He gripped her hips, loving how his hands could _crush_ her if he wanted, and pulled her hips over him, grinding up into her.

Feeling her shorts rapidly becoming damper by the second, she slid her hands up his broad chest to his shoulders and into the hair at the back of his head.

“No, you are. God, you're so fucking _sexy,_ Ben,” she whispered, rolling herself in time with his movements down into him. She'd never really had a thing for dry humping or grinding before, but when it was with Ben...god, everything was better with him.

He smirked and lifted her off him, quickly shucking his pants down past him knees. All he had to do was hook a finger around the soaked ( _fuck._ She got so fucking wet for him so quickly, it was everything) crotch of her shorts. Brushing a knuckle through her soaked skin, he didn't bother teasing them a moment longer before thrusting up and into her, pulling her hips down at the same moment so that he could be flush with her. He loved this moment, loved feeling her hot, velvety cunt all around his throbbing cock.

“Fuck, _Rey._ Ride me, baby,” he commanded, his eyes dark and hooded.

She _loved_ that look in his eyes, the one that said he was barely in control of himself, the one that thrived on passion and the almost primal, carnal urge that would have otherwise scared her had she not loved him.

She moved hard and fast against him, bracing her knees on either side of his thighs on the couch. Bouncing up and down, her hands digging into his shoulders for support, she slid up along his thick length until it was just the tip of him inside of her. It was loud, wet and obscene, and she didn't care. She wasn't one of those girls that needed the tender touches 24/7; she could handle it hard and dirty, and that was exactly what she wanted right this second. They were the perfect team, a true balance of one another. He gave and she took, and whenever one of them felt like it, they switched, and he took what he wanted.

“Fuck, you feel so good, Ben! You fill my pussy up so well—god!” she gasped as he stroked just right, her head falling back to expose the column of her throat.

He loved it when she offered herself to him like this, that pretty neck he once imagined squeezing and snapping bared to him for his taking. He could kill her. He'd done it in the past. If ever he was so inclined to fuck before the kill (the clean up sucked, however) he liked for the girl to ride him. He liked that she thought she had control before he stole it right back. He loved fucking up into their struggling bodies as he choked the life out of them. It was absolutely worth the orgasm, and even more so the stupid condom he had to wear for it. But he didn't need a condom with Rey. She was his perfect lover and he could fill her tight, perfect cunt up as many times as he liked.

He wondered when her birth control would finally fail like he'd planned. He needed a way to keep her with him _permanently,_ and she'd be so pretty with their baby in her belly.

Shaking that thought from his head, he latched his lips onto her neck, sucking almost _too_ hard. He bit his teeth into the sweet skin, his tongue relentless.

“Fuck yeah, baby. Fucking ride that cock. Show me how much you love my cock. Show me what a good slut you are for me. My perfect little slut,” he growled possessively against her throat.

She cried out, feeling the sharpness of his adorably crooked teeth against her flesh. Her mind tried to convince her that she was bleeding, but suddenly she couldn't care if she was or not. She would enjoy having marks on her skin from the best boyfriend ever. She wouldn't mind showing off how many times he'd taken her, over and over again.

Moaning loudly at the feeling of fullness, of being fucked so fucking well, she babbled incoherently, “I do—I love your cock, Ben. God, I love it, stretching me so good damn good. I dream about it sometimes!”

Okay, maybe not her best admission, but she wasn't lying. Sometimes when they were sleeping, she'd just have a wonderful dream and then that was it, she needed to jump on him. So she did, waking him up by sliding her body down onto his while they were both lost in a half-awake state.

He smirked at that, coming off her neck to gaze up at her. She was so fucking beautiful bouncing on his lap, her pretty face flushed, her eyes glazed over in lust. His beautiful little murderer.

“You dream about my cock, baby? You want me to fuck you all day and night? How about I tie you up and keep you like that?” he said, his thrusts becoming harder, the slap of their skin filling their apartment. It was a better sound than someone's last breath, than those whimpering, pathetic little cries that he used to jerk off to on lonely nights. He'd almost never—well, no, no. No need to get ahead of himself. He shouldn't go thinking silly thoughts like quitting his passion for _this_ passion.

Of course, when she was pregnant it was going to be a lot harder to sneak out for a quick midnight stab, since pregnant women needed their precious sleep. And later, with a newborn and an exhausted new mom, he couldn't just _go_. He'd never be the type who left his wife with the baby all the time, especially if he could be there to tend to both of their needs. He wouldn't be his fucking father.

Would he really retire for her? That was a serious thing to consider. After all, she'd need to retire once their family began and he'd want to be there, too...

Feeling another flood of warmth shoot through her at the thought of him tying her up, she nodded shakily. “I want it—I want you to tie me up, Ben,” she moaned. Maybe not _right_ this second, as she was rather preoccupied, but maybe in the future, after they could have a rational, sane conversation about safe words and what kinds of materials she wouldn't mind in a restraint. Yeah, that sounded like fun. Sex shopping with her boyfriend.

“Come inside me, Ben, fill me up until you can't do it anymore—please!” she whispered hoarsely, the sounds of her moans and cries rising louder in their little apartment.

“Only for you, baby. This come is only for you,” he growled. “But I need you to come first. Come for me, Rey. Drench my cock with your sweet come. Do it, baby. Come for me.”

He changed the grip on one of her hips so he could dip his thumb between her lips. He thrummed over her clit with quick determination, rubbing it just the way he knew she liked it. Sex with others had always just been okay. But with Rey, it was _perfect._

Not only was Ben Solo tall, dark, and dashingly handsome, but he was also a god damned gentleman, making her come first, as always. With a lilting moan, she bore down on him inside her, clenching him tight (thanks kegel exercises), while her body arched towards his, eyes shut in bliss. Stars bloomed behind her eyes, little white bursts as she succumbed to the pleasure. She'd done as he commanded, coating them both in her slick spend, and now it was his turn. Slumping against him, she tucked her face into his neck and dragged her teeth lightly over his pulse point, a teasing motion as he had his way with her limp body.

Know that she had come, he could. It was only fair. His mother raised a good boy after all, and some of those manners stuck. He held her hips at the angle he wanted, presses a tender kiss to the top of her head, and drove up into her at a relentless tempo, the slide so wonderfully easy with her come helping them along. It took only a handful more of hard thrusts for his balls to seize, but he knew his job wasn't done. He made a few sharp jerks afterwards, forcing his come in deeper, as his thumb resumed its targeted rubbings on her swollen, sensitive clit. He needed her to come again, he needed her sweet cunt to pull his come in deeper for a greater chance of impregnation.

This murder could be her last hurrah, he thought with a wicked smile. They could do this one together and then she'd be in a delicate (not that his sexy and sassy Rey was _ever_ delicate) condition. While he would never presume to tell her what to do, he couldn't let his pregnant fiancee keep up their activity, lest some victim try to get smart and stab back. Oh, and he needed to propose still. Well, he supposed, one thing at a time.

“C'mon, baby. Give me one more. One more, sweetheart,” he whispered gruffly against her ear, mouthing at the sensitive lobe.

She didn't know if she had another one in her, her body feeling happy and sated. But then his thumb stroked her in such a way that it made her shiver and her body ignite again. These second orgasms were usually easier to achieve, her body already amped up and sensitive. Combine that with his skillful thumb and she would be done for in no time. To encourage herself along, she ground down onto his softening cock again, a small whine leaving her at the lack of fullness.

“Ben, I—I—” she whimpered. “Harder.”

“Anything for you, baby,” he replied, increasing the pressure. He wished his refractory period was shorter, but he would need at _least_ another ten minutes before his cock was at attention again. He wasn't in his 20s anymore, sadly. “Come, Rey. _Come!”_

Moaning, she felt another flood of wetness leave her at his command, her body attuned to his instructions. He was so dominant in the bedroom, in all aspects of life, really, but it had never bothered Rey in the slightest. He was her perfect match in every way.

“Oh god!” she gasped, her thighs quivering as her body turned into melted goo. Leaning into him, Rey pressed her nose into his neck to inhale the masculine scent that she loved so much.

“That's my good girl,” he praised, nuzzling her head with his cheek. “Such a good girl, taking it so good. Did that feel good, baby? Do you like it when I make you come?”

He caressed her back in lazy patterns, so unbelievably happy. He loved having Rey in his arms like this, feeling her so dependent on him. It soothed that raging monster inside of him, the one that demanded control in life, of life. He wanted to be there for her forever.

Basking in the afterglow of her climax, she nodded weakly.

“Mhm,” she managed to get out, arms tucked loosely around his body. In a soft, quiet, nearly tentative voice, she added, “I love you so much, Ben.”

He smiled, his whole chest, ne, body, seeming to warm to her words. He wrapped one arm tighter around her, tucking her in closer as his other hand drifted up to cradle her neck. He gently pulled her head back, gazing down into those hazel eyes he adored.

“I love you, too, Rey. You're _everything_ to me. Will you—Rey, will you marry me?” he asked, soft and sweet.

Eyes going wide at his question, Rey searched his face for any hint of a prank or anything that may say this was just a cruel joke.

“I—yes! _Yes!”_ she practically bleated, cupping his face to give him an enthusiastic kiss. “Yes, I will _absolutely_ marry you, Ben! Oh my god!”

Ben grinned. “Oh, Rey. You've made me the happiest man _ever._ I can't believe you really want me. God, I swear I will do everything in my power to make sure you're happy forever.” He kissed her again. “Now, then, let's start by helping make your plans a reality. Tell me about the victim? What do we know and how are we going to take him out? Do you really think you have the time to bury him? Assuming it's a him, I suppose. Could be a her. I wouldn't judge. Kill whoever you'd like, baby.”

He'd never heard anything in the news about her targets, which confused him for a while now. But if she really _was_ the type to bury alive, maybe she was so good at hiding her victims that they just hadn't been found yet? It wouldn't surprise him, of course. Dameron and his force sucked at their jobs. After all, Ben's victims _were_ often on the news and they were still no closer to finding _him._

“Uhm...what?” Rey asked, her good mood mingling with her confusion. What on Earth was he talking about? A reality? She was just writing a murder-mystery novel. Unless he was equating her to the writer of the _Game of Thrones_ books and he just thought she was going to kill off every character one by one.

“Just show me what notes you have so far,” he encouraged. He shifted her in his lap, leaning over to grab her laptop and handle it over. As his finger brushed over the mousepad, it lit up and he saw…

A word document. And not _just_ a word document. It was a word document for a—a _story._ There was dialogue, right there!

A cold dread filled him, all his happiness and warmth gone. She—and he—holy _fuck._

“What's—baby, what's this?” he asked, his voice almost too quiet and gone in his own ears.

Maybe she was just extra elaborate in her scheming. Everyone made up conversations in their heads and maybe she just wanted to be prepared. Maybe she was the witty one-liner type of killer. Maybe she liked to monologue.

Seeing his face fall, she felt a flood of embarrassment hit her. She didn't think her writing was _that_ bad! She'd worked hard and researched as much as possible for the story, to make sure there were no loose ends once it was over.

“It—it's my book,” she mumbled. “I was hoping to have it done by the end of the year.”

“Your book,” he repeated, all the air gone from his body. Oh no. Oh no. _Oh no oh no oh no oh no._ “Right. Because you're all—”

“What's wrong?” she frowned softly, trying to capture his gaze. “I thought you wanted to help me…”

She'd known it was too good to be true.

“ _Good_ , Rey. You're good. You're so good. Too—too good,” he spit out finally.

_Shit. Shit. Shitshitshitshitshitshit._

What the _fuck_ was he supposed to do now!? He _lived_ with her. He'd just proposed to her! If he'd had his way, she was probably pregnant right fucking _now!_ This had all felt too good to be true, meeting a murderess and falling in love, because it _was._ His sweet, sexy, sassy Rey wasn't a stone cold killer with a laugh like a bell, she was a fucking innocent _writer._

“Ben? What's wrong? I mean, I know it isn't the greatest. It's my first book, but I'll improve. It'll go through editing and everything,” she asked, fear rising up within her.

Something wasn't adding up, some nagging feeling she'd had ever since she'd initially met him in that coffee shop. She'd always pushed it aside, because...because serial killers couldn't have normal relationships, right? They were the freaks of society, unable to form attachments and long lasting connections.

He felt her body language change and the dread filled him like a lead weight. She was going to find out. She was going to know. She was going to figure out that he wasn’t a writer like she _must_ have assumed and she was going to leave. She was going to leave! He couldn’t let her leave. He loved her so, so much and even if she wasn’t a killer like he was, he wanted her. Fuck. He didn’t deserve her, but he wanted her. He still wanted to marry her and have kids with her and make a happy little life with her.

He could stop...right? Yes. He could. He would. As he pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder, he knew he could. He was going to. Right now. Here and now, as he gazed into the swirling emotions in her lovely eyes, he vowed that he would never kill someone again. He’d be good, for her. He’d do anything he could to make sure that he was worthy of her.

“I think it’s going to be amazing, Rey. And I’ll help you as much as I can,” he said, a calmness setting into him at last. He felt all the tension leave his body. He loved her and he would do anything for her, even if that meant leaving behind his second favorite thing in life. “I love you, Rey. You’re everything to me. You know that, right?”

“Ben, I...I love you, too, but what's going on? I wasn't...expecting that reaction over you seeing my story. Maybe I should just delete the whole thing,” she said, fiddling with her hands in her lap.

No, those rules about serial killers didn't apply to Ben. Not her Ben. He was so loving and attentive and he didn't have a hard time with a long, committed relationship, right? He _had_ just asked her to marry him, after all. He was perfect and she was just being dumb to overthink it, right? She'd give him the benefit of the doubt. And it wasn't like she had any evidence, anyway. Why worry?

“Don’t you dare,” he said, smiling softly. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and moused up to the save icon for extra measure. “This is going to be incredible, sweetheart. I am going to use every bit of knowledge I have from my own research to help you along. You’re going to have the best best seller ever.”

He just wouldn’t divulge _why_ he had all that knowledge. And he hoped, desperately, that she wouldn’t ask.

Maybe he _could_ write a novel, too?  

Smiling gently in return, she leaned back against him, instantly feeling more relaxed. “With your help, I'm sure it will be passable. I don't know about a best seller, though. Maybe if it deserves a sequel.” Feeling warmth and happy in his embrace, she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “Are you sure you're okay?”

“I’m great. I’m a bit mad at myself for proposing to the love of my life without an actual ring in hand, but I’m at least glad that you didn’t laugh at me and walk away,” he smirked.

“How could I walk away?” she asked, a shy smirk on her lips. “And just _leave_ the father of my unborn child? I don't think so.”

He blinked at her. “I— _what?_ ”

There was no—she was just— _what?_

“I took a test the other day because I just had a feeling something was different, and it came back positive. I thought maybe a false positive, right? So I took another and that one came back the same, too. I was kind of afraid to tell you, because I didn't want to you to...get scared and leave,” she admitted.

Everyone always left, it seemed.

“You’re pregnant?” he repeated, still too stunned to catch the entire conversation. And then the guilt began to fill him. He’d done this to her. He’d gotten her pregnant for his own selfish reasons, wanting so desperately to keep her. “Are you...do you want to keep it?” He’d forced this upon her whether she knew it or not, but he wouldn’t let it stay that way if she didn’t want to.

She was silent for several moments, looking down at her hands. She'd always wanted a family, but she'd also wanted to be financially prepared for one. All her life, she'd been scraping to get by. Once Ben had come into the picture, things had gotten better, but even with their combined income, they still couldn't afford a place too much bigger than this. Stupid city living.

“I...I always wanted to be ready to have a kid. Financially, mentally. I think I am mentally, but financially...we still struggle a bit. But that being said, it seems like the more you plan, the more you save, the more you need. I don't think there really is such a thing as being _ready_ for a child. So yes, I want to keep it, and if you aren't too scared off, I want to marry you, too,” she said softly, glancing up at him.

Well shit. If he wasn’t going to quit his serial killer ways before, he definitely was now. He couldn’t do anything to risk the family he was building, here and now.

And speaking of family…

“Don’t worry about a thing, Rey. I have a way of making us financially stable, if you don’t mind debasing yourself a bit,” he said with a bit of a sheepish smile.

Raising an eyebrow at him, she met his eyes and said, “I am _not_ going to turn to stripping for money, Ben. No one wants to see a pregnant woman on a pole, anyway.”

He chuckled. “You’d be surprised how many men _want_ to see that, but I think we’d better leave any naughty strip teases to my audience and mine alone.” He set her laptop aside before lifting her up into his arms, moving them towards the bathroom to clean up. “No, I was more referring to you meeting my...my mom.”

“Your mom?” _Oh._ Yeah, nothing like meeting your soon to be mother-in-law and telling her you were pregnant. Excellent first meeting. Spectacular, really. “You never talk about her and I didn't want to pry. So I don't know if going to her and asking her for help is a...good idea. We can manage.”

“It’s not so much asking for help as it is asking for access to my inheritance,” he shrugged. He set her down on her feet carefully next to the shower before he turned  it on. “I didn’t really need it before, but now that I have a wife and kid to provide for, I should probably do a bit better for you.”

Working her shirt over her head, she tossed it into the hamper before moving over to the shower to take the ties out of her hair. As she placed them down on the counter, her gaze drifted to her bare stomach, still taut and flat. She'd have to look at some baby websites or something to see when women usually started showing. She just had to hope their insurance would cover doctor visits. Or maybe Ben could figure that out, too. She supposed she could always pick up a few extra shifts at work, but then that meant she'd never get to see Ben and she very much wanted to see him.

“You haven't said if you're happy or not about this,” she murmured, turning her head to him next. “I swear I didn't do it to try and trap you or anything. It was like the manufacturer somehow mixed up when my placebo pills would be in the month.”

“What? Oh, god, no, Rey! I’m _so_ happy,” he said. He dropped to her knees before her and laid his head on her chest, holding her close. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted and more. And now, knowing you’re going to have my baby...shit, sweetheart, I’ve never been happier in my whole life.”

Not even when he’d finally murdered Snoke did he feel this elated. Nevermind the stab of guilt that twisted in his gut when she’d insisted that she hadn’t tried to trap him. But she was happy, at least, and that could possibly help heal his terrible guilt. He may feel terrible that he was an absolute unworthy piece of trash in the presence of a goddess who had no idea that she should be running from him, but he could make her happy, right?

Thinking of Snoke gave him pause. He hadn’t been Snoke’s only mentoree and he spared a moment to wonder what had ended up happening to Armitage Hux, the overly-eager and blood-thirsty boy. Even Ben thought Armitage was a bit too... _excited._ Honestly, Ben was shocked that Armitage hadn’t killed Snoke first, given his extreme thirst for blood. Ben was pretty sure he’d even seen Armitage _drink_ it before, and that was too far, even for Ben.

Carding her hands through his hair, that wonderfully dark, soft mane that she loved so much, Rey tilted his face up to look at her. “Will you still be so happy and love me even when I'm a beached whale? Or after, when I have stretch marks everywhere and I'll be moody and hormonal and probably a giant bitch?”

He grinned and pressed a kiss to her sternum. “I’ll be _so_ happy and in love with you even when you’re trying to break my hand and screaming at me for doing this to you as you push our child into this world.” Because he had, of course. He’d done this to her and now she was going to bear the consequence forever. Thankfully, she was happy about it.

“Good. That's all I ask for,” she smiled, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

They took a quick shower together, washing each other up with minimal excessive touching, which was seriously a feat, all things considered.

As they got out and dressed, with Rey slipping into her favorite pair of flannel pajama pants and one of Ben's t-shirts, she settled back down at her laptop. With her fiance at her side, they talked about some things that could change in the book, how a murderer would kill (Ben's eyes lit up at that), and potentially slip up to get caught near the end (he seemed to close off a bit at that topic). With his help, she was able to finish another chapter, and as they crawled into bed later that night, she held him close. She knew that sometimes he liked to slip out of bed when he couldn't sleep and go for runs. She didn't want there to be any runs tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at these stupid babies.


	2. Chapter 2

Ben drummed his fingers nervously on the steering wheel as he drove his fiancee out to the countryside to see his mother. He hadn’t seen Leia since he lied to her face at Han’s funeral. It was why he _hadn’t._ Because how did he face his mother, the only adult in his life to ever show him any measure of affection (albeit belatedly at some points), after he’d killed his father and then lied to her about it?

Snoke had said it would complete his training. Ben would become the full-fledged killer he was always meant to be once he severed the ties in life that was his resentment with his father. Stabbing Han had been cathartic, a release like he’d never known at that point in life. But then having to turn around and tell Leia that he had no idea what happened, he didn’t _know_ the strange man who had killed his dad right in front of him...it had hurt a part of him that he didn’t realize he even had. He’d hidden that from Snoke, not wanting him to know that he’d actually felt remorse. But it wasn’t remorse over the death of his weak, pathetic sperm donor. He didn’t miss Han.

Now, though, he was taking his pregnant fiancee to meet the woman he hadn’t seen in nearly five years. His interactions with Leia had been sporadic and she’d been understandably overjoyed when he’d called to invite himself and Rey over for Sunday brunch. He hadn’t candy-coated his intentions at all, but Leia was more than happy to hand over the account information for his inheritance in exchange to meet the girl who had finally claimed and calmed her wild son.

Neither of them could ever find out the reality of his history. It would probably crush what was left of poor Leia’s heart and Rey…

“Do you think she'll like me?” Rey asked, fumbling with her fingers in her lap as she gazed out the window. The trees were beautiful, just barely beginning to turn colors for fall. This part of the country was beautiful this time of year and she almost expressed her want to move out here.

She was beyond nervous to meet Leia, the ex-politician who had done so much for their community. The woman was a legend, and Rey could hardly believe that Ben was her son. Well, it made sense, as he had a strong personality, but still.

“She’ll _love_ you, Rey. I have absolutely no doubt about that. She’s always wanted a daughter and you’re absolutely the one who she would envision in her mind when she thought none of us were paying attention. She’ll probably love _me_ more because I’m bringing you home. Oh, and speaking of, I haven’t told her about the baby yet. I wanted to do that in person,” he smiled. His hand drifted over the center console to rest on her still-flat abdomen. All he had told Leia was that he was engaged, not about their happy new addition.

Covering his hand with hers, she threw a smile at him. “Okay, but don't just blurt it out. I want to tell her _together,”_ she said before worrying at her bottom lip. What if his mother was only nice to her once she found out she was pregnant? It was silly, but sometimes it happened. She just didn't want it to happen to her.

“I promise, sweetheart. I’m an excellent secret keeper,” he grinned. He truly was. It had been a month since he vowed to end his vile ways and his sweet Rey was still none the wiser. She had no idea that the man who held her close at night had killed.

He wondered what he would say _if_ she ever knew. It wasn’t like he killed blindly. When he was younger, his head with full of ideal fantasies that he was killing those who deserved it. He used the internet to lure pedofiles, posing as some sweet little underage boy or girl, depending on the needs of his target. Snoke had picked him up that way, a dually laid trap ending in a fortuitous meeting. Snoke had been intrigued by Ben and offered to help him along. He showed Ben how to kill with pleasure, how to wring the most pain out of them as possible before ending a life. Whether the pleasure of seducing them into a false sense of security, his favorite fuck-and-strangle, or if it was dismembering them, piece by wretched piece, Snoke truly helped improve his method.

But it wasn’t long until Snoke turned Ben’s heart to...other pursuits. Sure, ridding the world of kiddie-diddlers was a noble deed, but killing drug lords was fun, too. Greedy CEOs were a fun thrill, and twisted politicians always squealed wonderfully. And, of course, illegal arms dealers needed to go; until one of those arms dealers ended up being his father. But Snoke had pushed him into doing it. He couldn’t make the exception because it was his dad. Evil was evil was evil and he needed to purge the world of it. Obviously, Snoke never realized that he was part of that evil as well.

“I feel like we should have brought something. A fruit basket, maybe. Just going in and asking your mother for your inheritance seems...I don't know. Impersonable,” she shrugged, lacing their fingers together.

“We are trading the money that ensures us comforts in life with the knowledge that she's soon to be a mother-in-law as well as a grandmother. Trust me, sweetheart, she'll be thrilled. I only need to bring your beautiful face and this incredible, life-giving body,” he reassured her, bringing her hand up to kiss.

“If you say so,” she sighed, watching the trees zoom past them. She stayed quiet for the rest of the ride, too wrapped up in her own head about what she'd even _say_ to her future mother-in-law.

Soon enough, though, the house (mansion) came into view. It was massively opulent, a long driveway with pristine shrubs and trees lining either side. It looked like something out of a movie with how perfect it was. Could she imagine visiting Leia all the time (or at least near birthdays and holidays)? Yes. Yes, she absolutely could.

“Don't let it intimidate you, Rey. She's just a normal woman,” Ben reassured her as he pulled up the long gravel driveway. “It's really not that exciting of a house. There are too many stale rooms.”

He'd hated it as a kid, hated all the big rooms he wasn't allowed to go into because the things inside were too valuable. When he was finally allowed, he found the thrill of it just as stale as the air. It wasn't that great. It was just a house and stuff. He preferred his little place with Rey.

As they climbed out of the car, she came around to grab his hand, needing the comfort and support as they made their way up the steps and to the front door. She lifted her other hand to ring the doorbell, but it opened before she ever got the chance.

Leia was much smaller than she'd imagined, and Rey blinked a long moment before looking from Ben to the tiny woman and back again. He came out of _her?!_ This poor woman! Jesus, what if their own baby was as big as Ben? She was pretty sure she'd need a C-section or something—her hips just might not be wide enough.

“Hi, Mom,” Ben greeted with a sheepish smile, giving a small wave with his free hand. “This is my fiancee, Rey.”

“Rey, dear! Oh, it's so good to meet you!” Leia said, immediately surging forward to embrace the slightly-taller girl. She held her close to her chest, her heart warm for the first time since…

Leia held Rey at arms length once she got her fill of the hug, her twinkling eyes appraising the girl briefly.

“You're gorgeous, Rey. What are you doing with a hooligan like my Ben?” she asked with a smirk.

Ben scoffed and rolled his eyes before leaning down to kiss Leia's temple. “There, happy?”

“Much more. Please, please, come inside. I just pulled the ham from the oven,” Leia said, stepping aside for the kids.

Okay, maybe Leia was a bit spirited, but Rey already loved her. She'd never had such a welcoming meeting with someone before. Not even Ben, who at first she'd thought watched her like a bug at those coffee dates.

Following her nose into the house, she took a hearty sniff and melted a little bit. Oh, it was fantastic—the pungent aroma of cloves, brown sugar, and what smelled like a few other side dishes.

“Is there anything we can help with, Mrs. Organa?” she asked, looking hopefully around the kitchen. Ben's mother was a bit older, and Rey didn't want her to feel like she was making everything by herself.

“Could you grab a cooling rack for me? They're beside the stove there, on the ri—yes, yes, there. Good. Set it on the island for me, please,” Leia said. She pulled out the green bean casserole and set it on the rack, smiling with satisfaction at the spread. “I never get to cook for anyone but myself these days. I was thrilled to make this feast for my son and my soon-to-be daughter. Although I am a bit upset that he kept you from me.”

“ _Mother_ ,” Ben said, his voice a low warning from the other side of the island. He'd already pulled down the good china and set the table, like a good boy. He could be good. She deserved that.

“Are you a red or a white drinker, Rey?” Leia asked, waving her sons growl off as she turned for the wine.

“Normally, I'd say white, but…” Rey trailed off, instinctively reaching a hand out for Ben since it seemed like now was going to be the time to break the news. “I'm not exactly drinking a whole lot these days.”

She offered a small smile, looking up adoringly at Ben for a long moment before turning back to Leia.

“You're not—oh. Oh. _Oh!_ Oh my God! Are you two—?” Leia asked, her eyes so wide and hopeful. She could already feel the tears beginning to well up, a hand pressed to her lips as she trembled and waited.

Ben squeezed Rey's hand, smiling down affectionately at her. His beautiful non-murdering love, his soon to be wife and the mother of his unborn child. She lit up the room even now and he couldn't imagine being more in love with her.

“Yes, we are,” Rey replied gently, her heart feeling a mixture of broken and warmed at the same time. Leia looked so happy, and it tugged at her heart strings. “We're expecting a baby sometime next year. It's a little too early for the first check up still, but we felt like you should know.”

“Benjamin Solo, you are forgiven of _everything_ in life for giving me this,” Leia said with a watery smile. She came and hugged Rey again, tender but strong, tears slipping down her cheeks. “Oh, how I wish your father were here for this.”

Ben said nothing, the knife that was always in his heart twisting harder than before. His mother had no idea that the things she said correlated as they had.

“Anything you two need, just ask and it's yours. Oh, I'm going to have to call my secretary and begin a trust for the little one. College ought to be through the ridiculous roof in the next nineteen years,” Leia said.

Rey squeezed her back just as strongly, already feeling more than welcomed into the family by this tiny woman. She couldn't see the reason why Ben had chosen not to talk to her for so long. She was his _mother!_ And she clearly loved her son dearly. Rey knew Ben well enough that she could see his mother was probably the _only_ other person he was soft for besides herself.

“We really appreciate that,” she said, only pulling back so that Leia could go wrap Ben up in an equally tight hug as well.

Ben allowed his mother to hug away, swallowing his guilt deep down. He had tried to justify it to himself in the past. Han wasn't good for Leia. He caused her gray hairs far too young and stressed her own and made her cry. _Always._ But Ben also knew that Han and Leia worshipped each other and knowing that he'd done what he'd done...well, he couldn't bring him back now.

“Are you going to have the wedding before or after?” Leia asked, pulling back and looking expectantly at the two.

“Oh. Um. We hadn't really discussed that yet. I proposed and then she told me about the baby and we've just been sort of...distracted,” Ben admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I'm not sure what to do, honestly. I mean, we could just have a little courthouse thing if you want to wait a little bit longer,” Rey added, looking up at Ben. “I don't want to be _huge_ during it, and trying to fit into a wedding dress with a watermelon strapped to my stomach is probably the biggest lie ever. Purity and virginity and all that.”

“We can have whatever ceremony you'd like, sweetheart,” Ben promised her. If only she knew just _how_ pure Ben knew she was.

“You can get married here, if you want,” Leia offered. “There's a gazebo out back. It can be as big or as small as you'd like.”

 _“Really?”_ Rey beamed, nearly bouncing in place. Her hazel eyes were huge, a big, toothy grin on her face as she looked up at Ben. “Oh that sounds wonderful. Thank you!”

She grabbed the bottle of wine and set it on the table, following up by bringing the rest of the food out, as well. Taking her seat at the table, feeling warm and cozy between the man she loved and the sweet woman who had made her feel included from the very first moment.

“This is _really_ good!” Rey nearly moaned as she began eating. She scarfed the food down hungrily, eating with the same gusto she normally did.

She knew it was from years of abuse at the hands of a former guardian that she ate like this, like it would be her last meal. Ben had commented on it once, and Rey had managed to close the subject down before it went too deep by saying that she just really, _really_ enjoyed food.

“I'm so glad you think so, dear,” Leia replied as she cut into her own meat. “We can make this a regular thing, if it would work in both if your schedules. What is it that you do, Rey?”

“Oh, I'm a waitress by day, aspiring author by night,” Rey said with a soft shrug. “I'm hoping to get my first book finished here soon and maybe get it published with Ben's help. He's been _so_ supportive, and I'm really grateful to have him,” she added as she leaned over to steal a little bit of food from his plate.

Leia raised an eyebrow at her son. “You're writing again, Ben? You haven't done that in years.”

Ben wondered what Rey would do if she ever found out that the writing his mother was referring to was notebooks full of angsty, bad teen poetry and “short stories”. His teachers were both impressed by his skills and worried about his content. It was little wonder to him that he ended up as a vigilante serial killer.

“Rey has a true talent. She's going to be the best murder mystery writer ever,” Ben praised. Anyone else would have been seriously harmed for stealing his food, but he wouldn't deny Rey anything.

“Murder mystery? That sounds— _oh,_ ” Leia cut off with a small gasp, her eyes going wide as she looked harder at Rey.

Rey met Leia's gaze and then immediately winced, turning her attention down to the table. For good measure, she made sure to carefully set the knife down and only use her fork so as not to spook anyone. Shit! _Shit!_ She'd seen that look before on other people's faces. It was something akin to pity and a mixture of relief and sometimes disgust, depending on the person.

“Oh, _Rey_. You—you're—” Leia took a large sip of wine. “You've grown up beautifully, Rey.”

Ben's brow furrowed. “And how would you know that?”

“You were, what, twelve?” Leia asked instead, her voice tender and gentle. Not judging. _Never_ judging.

“Twelve, yeah,” Rey replied, keeping her eyes averted.

It had been self-defense! That's all!

“I donated to your defense. I couldn't stomach the thought of them putting a poor young girl in one of those horrid centers when you'd done nothing wrong,” Leia said.

“Will someone tell me _what_ is going in here?” Ben asked, trying to tamper down his rage at being left out. His mother seemed to be doing her best to be tender and gentle with Rey and he couldn't risk scaring either.

Rey bit her bottom lip, hard enough that there was a small indent when she was done. “Ben, I...I don't really know how to say it. I mean, it never really came up, and I didn't want you afraid of me.”

Ben gathered her hands into his, holding them gently. “Sweetheart, just tell me. You could never scare me.” _If only you knew how scary I am, my love_.

“I-I—” she stammered slightly, tears threatening to spill already. “I killed someone. When I was twelve.”

“Rey, you can't think of it like that,” Leia insisted. “She freed herself from her childhood abuser. That despicable man deserved his end.”

Ben wasn't really listening. It was hard to hear, what with all the blood in his body so concentrated in his raging hard on.

“...Ben?” she asked, chewing on her lip again as she peeked up at him. Well, being engaged was nice while it lasted. Might as well thank his mother for the lovely lunch and—

Oh god, was he _hard?!_

Ben cleaned his throat. “That's awful, dear, that you had to suffer through that. I do recall my mother mentioning some case she felt passionately about. Perhaps we were always meant to meet?” he asked, giving her a grin. They'd discuss things...later. _Without_ his mother present.

“Maybe,” she said, giving him a hopeful smile. It wasn't every day you learned your fiancee was capable of taking someone's life, and Ben was taking it exceptionally well. She'd have to make sure he was _really_ okay with it later.

“I’m sorry, Rey. I had no idea he didn’t know,” Leia frowned. “I can imagine why you'd keep that to yourself, though. It's quite the heavy thing to confess.”

“She was acquitted, clearly. There's nothing to be ashamed of,” Ben reassured his love. “Now, how about we discuss our ceremony?”

“What did you have in mind?” Rey asked, grateful to be on far better, lighter topics than _that._ She'd answer any questions he had, of course, but she didn't want to talk about anything deeper with his mom present. She liked Leia, but she loved and trusted Ben implicitly.

“I was thinking simple. You and I, my mother and a few of my non-relative relatives, and your friends. Just a private ceremony, a simple dinner,” Ben offered. He had never imagined having a massive wedding like his parents had had, but if she wanted that, he'd comply. Anything she wanted she could have.

“That sounds lovely,” she whispered back, reaching over under the table to give his firm thigh a gentle squeeze. Okay, and maybe and flicked out a few fingers to brush briefly over the impressive tent he was still sporting.

He bit his lip as subtly as he could. So she wasn't turned off by him getting hard? That was a pleasant surprise to say the least. But he needed to stay focused. His _mother_ was right there. He couldn't very well sweep all the food off the table and throw Rey up there, feasting first on her pretty pussy before stuffing her full of his cock.

Those were just bad manners.

“How soon?” Ben asked, looking at both women.

“Whenever you'd like,” Leia reassured them. “Rey, you'll only have a limited amount of time until you begin to show, if that's important for you to avoid.”

“I mean, theoretically, I'd like to not be showing yet in the photos. So maybe sooner is better than later,” she replied, thinking it over. “Maybe...sometime in the next month or so?”

“I’ll need a guest list by the end of the week, and preferably another dinner where we discuss decorations and flowers and the like. Now, if you want to keep it small—”

Ben just smiled softly as his mother went off on a tangent, his eyes trained solely on Rey. He couldn’t wait to get her home now more than ever.


	3. Chapter 3

Ben wanted to ask her about it the moment they got in the car, but it didn’t seem like the right time for such a conversation. He wanted to be able to react properly to this exciting bit of news, he wanted to let her know just how much he still loved her. He wasn’t planning on telling her his secret yet (or ever), but knowing that they shared this very forbidden thing was getting him hard all over again.

Continued talk of their upcoming wedding was distracting enough, Ben prompting Rey on things like color theme, favorite flowers, and if they wanted to spend money on a DJ or just make a playlist themselves. She seemed eager to keep talking, clearly trying to put off the inevitable conversation, but Ben was patient. If he could talk to a creeper online for four months without gutting him like a fish at the first disgusting dick pic, he could handle the drive home.

He even waited until they were in the bedroom, both slowly undressing. He was still half hard.

“If you’re comfortable, will you tell me what happened?” he asked, his deep, even voice cutting through the silence.

She paused with her shirt halfway over her head, her body going still. She'd known the conversation was coming, of course. Eventually, they were going to run out of wedding things to talk about. Taking a deep breath, she finished taking her shirt off and tossed it in the hamper. Her pants came next, joining the shirt in the laundry. She turned her back to him next as she reached up to unclasp her bra and hang it on the door before pulling a fresh sleep shirt on. It was one of his old ones, long enough on her that it came down to about mid-thigh.

“What do you want to know?” she asked quietly, digging around in one of their drawers for a pair of socks.

“What kind of abuse did you suffer at his hands?” he asked. He was doing everything in his power to keep his tone the same, to not let her see how his fists clenched in rage. If Rey hadn’t killed her childhood abuser, he would have. Tonight, even. He might even let her watch, to let her get that wonderful closure. Or, _fuck,_ let her help.

He could not show her how hard he was right now. He tugged off his slacks and pulled on his loosest sweats in a manner of moments.

Sighing, she shrugged softly, “Basic stuff, I guess. He hit me, pulled my hair, didn't feed me for long periods of time, things like that. I snuck out one night after he'd fallen asleep, and I went over to my neighbor's house. She was a nice old lady, but she was almost too old to move. She would give me some snacks and a few meals here and there, since she always made too much after her husband died. Anyway, after I got some food, I snuck back home and he was awake, waiting for me…”

Ben turned around, approaching her with careful steps, treating her like a skittish animal. A beautiful doe, perhaps. “What happened then, Rey?” he asked, nearly looming above her.

Glancing over her shoulder at him briefly, she chewed on her lip a second. “He was drunk, grabbed me, and he threw me across the room. I landed on a coffee table; broke it and got a bunch of glass in my hand and arm,” she said, lifting the limb in question to show him the scars. “He came after me, yelling and calling me names, how I was worthless, that I was nothing but a nuisance. I grabbed a shard of glass, probably about the length of my hand, and I…I slashed him.”

He tried his best to swallow down his groan, imaging her, so small but so fierce, slashing into the fuck who had dared harm her.

“What happened next, Rey?” he prompted, his hands sliding up her arms, a slow drag from her wrists up. “Did he scream or cry? Did you cut at him some more?” He leaned down to brush his face to her hair, his nose at her ear. “Did you watch the blood pour out of his miserable fucking body? Did it make you happy to see him in pain after all the pain he put you through?”

He was so hard he was pretty sure he could cut through glass. Or steel.

She trembled a bit, the memory flashing up behind her open eyes. “He screamed, but it was all gurgly sounding. They said I'd cut straight through one of his jugular arteries, into his windpipe. He choked on his own blood at the same time he bled out. He stumbled—grabbed his throat, then fell. I watched him, and even though I knew it was _wrong,_ I was glad he'd gotten what came to him. I almost stabbed him again—nearly ran to get a kitchen knife, but he kept thrashing and struggling on the ground, and there was so much blood. _So_ much blood. I was soaked in it, and I remember that as he finally died, as that little spark of life left his eyes...I felt peace. I was happy he was gone. He'd never hurt me or any other person ever again.”

Inhaling sharply, she stilled slightly when she felt something barely poking her in the back. He was...he was _so_ hard. And why, why oh why, did that do something to her?

His hands came to rest on her hips, bunching up his soft old shirt as he took a step forward and ground into her perfect fucking arm. God, he loved her, and now, knowing this, he loved her even _more._ He thrusted his cock up into the soft crevice, groaning at the sensation of it.

“He can never hurt anyone again, baby, and it's because of you. You're so fucking _good_ , so fucking perfect, ridding the world of that disgusting bastard. He messed with the wrong girl, he put his hands where they didn't go and you _made him_ stop. You did that, baby. Fuck, you're incredible,” he rumbled, his words hot against her throat, against the swoop of collarbone exposed by the loose neckline.

He rucked up the shirt some more, one hand holding it up while the other drifted over her belly where their child grew. No one would ever hurt _their_ child. Not like they'd been hurt. Trailing wet kisses across her skin, his hand drifted between her legs and he groaned louder to meet her stopping wet heat. Oh fuck _yes._

“Ben…” she whispered, her eyes drifting shut as she tried to get his hand exactly where she wanted it. _“Ben!”_ she said again, louder this time to get his attention, even though one of her hands shot out to wrap around his wrist and guide him.

He went still, two fingers pressed to her clit as he obeyed her command. “Hmmm?”

“I _liked_ it,” she breathed, eyes shut. She was a monster for liking it, right? She was a horrible, terrible person, even if she'd gotten rid of _another_ horrible, terrible person. “I _liked_ killing him, Ben.”

He grinned, a dark and sadistic thing that he was glad she couldn't see. He began to rub her clit in small, concentrated circles, his hips picking back up in their rutting. He sucked on her neck, gliding his tongue along her.

“Did you like it, baby? Did you like holding his pathetic fucking life in your hands?” He pressed his fingers against her even harder, forcing her body back against his in a sharp jolt. Darkly, he gruffed into her ear, “Would you do it again?”

Lifting one arm up to wrap around his neck, she moved her body against his hand as best she could, trying to rub herself back against him, as well.

Would she do it again? Absolutely. No questions asked—she would absolutely kill Plutt again, and even though it had been self-defense, she'd fantasized long enough about killing him on purpose, in his sleep. His stupid face slack with alcohol as she ended him. God, it was a dark thought, but she allowed herself the fantasy.

“Yes!” she cried out in a soft mewl, grinding harder against him. “I would, I _would!”_

He let out a growl of pleasure at that before nudging her onto their bed, using both of his hands to quickly lift her legs and bend her knees, her pert ass up in the air. He dropped down to his own knees and buried his face in her cunt, licking and sucking in a frenzied pace so unlike him. He was usually so targeted and controlled, but knowing she was truly so, _so_ perfect was driving him past all points of coherence. He shoved his sweats off as he devoured her, groans loud and sounds all wet, far too obscene.

“I bet you looked beautiful. So fucking beautiful, drenched in his blood, the _winner._ My good girl, my perfect girl, purging the world of filth. So fucking perfect, Rey,” he said, plunging three fingers into her as he left sloppy kisses across her ass.

She cried again at the sudden invasion, of being stretched so quickly, her body trying to fight back by clenching down tightly around his fingers. The words he was saying threw up little warning flags in her head, but she couldn't _really_ be too bothered by it. She _had_ just admitted that she would kill someone again, and maybe she could just run with the image he'd painted.

“I wish you'd been there with me, baby,” she moaned, thrusting herself back against his fingers. They were amazing, but she still wanted his cock more, wanted to feel it deep inside of her again. “I wish I could have shared that experience with you so I wasn't alone.”

He bit into her ass at that forbidden request. He should tell her. She deserved to know. She needed to hear how he was also the victim of abuse and how it led him to the life he led now, how he murdered on those long nights away from her side, how he _loved it._ He wanted to share everything with her, including the high of a kill. Fuck, she would be so perfect, covered in blood, her pink lips turned turned red.

“Who do you want gone, baby? I'll do it for you,” he promised before he could stop himself. He brought himself to his feet and plunged into her, hoping she'd just think this was all part of a fantasy, a sick and safe game. But he would do it. He'd kill anyone she said. He needed his wife and child safe and happy.

Gasping loudly at the sudden, amazing sensation of him inside of her, of him fucking her hard and deep. Doggy had always been her favorite, and Ben knew exactly how to angle himself so that her body took as much of his as possible and hit exactly where she needed for it to end in a cataclysmic orgasm. Every so often, she had these super mega powerful ones that only he'd ever been able to coax out of her, and they were so fucking powerful that she'd actually squirted for him.

Of course she'd been embarrassed at first, but he'd been so fucking smug, so proud of himself to make her do that, and to be the only person to do that.

She knew in the back of her head that that was going to happen again, the brevity of their passion always leading her where she needed to go. She knew he'd asked for a name, but honestly, he was fucking her so well that she couldn't think of any, fantasy or otherwise. She could only focus on the hot, heavy weight of his cock dragging through her body.

 _“Please, Ben!_ Oh, oh, right there, just like that—if you keep that up I'm gonna—gonna—” she moaned, thrusting herself back harder against him.

He gripped her hips and helped her slam onto him, a never ending stream of pants and groans coming from him. “That's it, baby. Come for me. Soak me, milk that cock. You can do it, sweetheart. Fucking. Do. It!” he commanded with a few particularly hard thrusts. He could wait until she came. He had to. She deserved this.

Her eyes were rolling uselessly, her body damp with sweat. She'd be so sad when this position wasn't as comfortable once she got bigger, so she'd enjoy it while it lasted. The weight in her stomach was building, building, screaming loudly towards her end. After a dozen or so more lewd, loud and wet slaps of his cock into her cunt, she came. She came hard and nearly violently, her walls clenching down against him.

This. This right here was the most powerful orgasm she'd _ever_ had, she was sure of it. She could feel an absolute flood of wetness leaving her body to coat him and their bed.

 _“Ahhhhhh! Beeeeeeeen~! Fuuuuuck!”_ she screamed, another wave hitting her as she felt him coming inside of her. To know that she'd driven him to that point was just the hottest thing, and she loved feeling the evidence of it inside her and dripping down her thighs.

Ben’s fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hip as he spilled into her, pushed to the edge when she'd squirted for him. He could still remember the day when he'd first made her do it, the pride that only _he_ could get that reaction from her. It was how he knew they were perfect for each other. It was like having the perfect key to her lock. It was wonderful.

He gathered up what strength he had left inside and scooped her up into his arms, moving her higher up the bed and away from their amazing mess. He laid beside her, peppering kisses along her shoulders, a happy hum rumbling in his chest, near a purr. He loved her so much. So, _so_ much. And knowing that she had a bloodlust, too…

“Rey,” he said softly. Now was the time. He needed to tell her now. She deserved to know.

“Mmm?” she replied sleepily, her body feeling sated and content as she curled closer into him with her cheek resting against his shoulder. She felt like warm jello, just goo everywhere, and she never wanted to come back down to earth after an amazing orgasm like _that._

“I know how you felt,” he murmured lowly, curling around her tighter. He rubbed his nose into her sweaty hair, almost as if he were a cat scent-marking her. “I understand why you did it. And I—Rey?”

Glancing down at her, he could see that she was asleep. Sighing, he kissed her forehead. Now wasn't the time. He would tell her later. One day.

“Good night, my love.”

The only indication that she'd heard him was a gentle snore.


	4. Chapter 4

The next few weeks passed by in a blur, with tons of phone calls to and from Leia regarding wedding things. Rey seriously could not believe this was happening! She was going to be Rey Solo in less than 30 days! They had their marriage license already, just waiting for a signature and everything.

“But what if my morning sickness is there when we're doing the ceremony?” she fretted, walking back and forth in front of their little couch. “I don't exactly want to hold off on my 'I do’ to go throw up really quickly.”

Her morning sickness hadn't been restricted to just the morning, unfortunately. It was a constant all-day battle and if it got any worse, then Ben had threatened to take her to the hospital himself.

“Just take your medicines in the morning and then you'll be fine,” Ben soothed, catching her arm and leaning down to kiss her forehead. “And if you do, then we'll pause. There will only be seven people watching us, eight if you count Father Takka. They can wait for the bride to handle the symptoms of her pregnancy.” _Or else._

“And you're _sure_ you want to marry me?” she asked, looking up at him with worry. She knew it was just the surge of pregnancy hormones making her like this, but she couldn't help it! He was so perfect and amazing and what had she ever done to deserve him? What if he snapped out of it and she never got to run her hands through his silky soft hair again? Or she never got to feel his plush lips against her own again?

“Absolutely. Your soul matches mine, Rey. You were made for me and I for you,” he promised, his eyes soft but serious.

Who else could ever murder a man like she did and still be so pure? Only her. Just his Rey.

Feeling a bit better, she nodded and pressed her forehead to his chest for a moment, just resting there with her arms around him.

“Hey, Ben?” she asked after another stretch of silence.

“What is it, sweetheart?” Ben asked softly, his hands trailing up and down her spine.

“How do you know so much about the stuff I write about?” she asked, placing her chin on his chest instead so that she could look up at him.

He swallowed thickly. “I have done extensive research,” he replied, holding her gaze confidently. It wasn't untrue.

“Yeah, but what for? I never see you write anything,” she mumbled, pouting up at him.

“Rey. Are you sure this is a line of questioning that you wish to follow?” he asked her gently, stroking down her cheek with his knuckles. “I love you and I am thrilled about our wedding and our baby. What else matters?”

Frowning softly, she pulled back to look at him. He was hiding something, she was suddenly sure of it.

Inspecting his features, she noticed the slight tightness around his eyes and mouth, the way his pulse was thudding quickly in his neck. He was trying to be calm, but he was panicking over something for some reason.

“Ben…?” she asked, stepping out of his reach.

She could always think a little better when he wasn't touching her.

“Rey, you're not the only one who had a negative experience with an adult as a child. And you're not the only one who solved that manner in a less-than legal way,” he explained. “My parents had this...guy they knew. Mr. Hutt. He should have never been near a child in the first place, and after his repeated attempts to sexually assault me, I made sure he never did again. I was also acquitted.”  

 _And then I hunted down more disgusting fucks and murdered them, too._ But she didn't need to know that.

Rey was stunned, staring up at her fiance with wide eyes. Ben had—Ben had done it, too? She could only imagine the situation, where he'd had to defend himself in such a way. She was angry—enraged. How dare that Mr. Hutt fucker try to do that to her man! Even if it was a long time ago, he was still hers, and her teeth gritted together. If Ben hadn't taken care of him, she would have. How _dare_ he! Maybe it was the hormones, or maybe she was just passionate (she was betting a mixture of the two), but when she spoke, it was low and quiet.

“Good,” she whispered. “I'm glad he got what was coming to him.”

“And I'm glad yours did, too. And you and I are going to create a world where our child never has to face that. We won't abandon them or ignore them like our parents did. We will protect them,” he promised, laying his hand on her stomach as if passing that promise through her skin. “Every single day, I do what I can to make this world better for you two. You're all I care about.”

“Are you...saying what I think you're saying?” she asked slowly, warily. “Because what I think you're saying is some pretty serious stuff, Ben.”

She remembered that she'd once asked herself if Ben was a serial killer. Not her Ben. But the hints were there, and the more she started looking, the more “in plain sight” they seemed to be.

“What do you think I’m saying, Rey?” he asked her, used that same, careful tone. But she hadn't shoved his hand away yet. She just looked a bit worried, which he was trying not to be offended by. She never had to he scared of him. He did it all _for_ her.  

“I'm saying that, based on what you just told me and the words you chose just now, that Mr. Hutt doesn't sound like the only one,” she whispered, not trusting her voice to say it any louder. Her body felt cold, shock trying to set in, but she didn't have confirmation yet, and she wasn't sure what she was going to do if he agreed.

“Would you take down someone else who treated you like Plutt did?” he asked instead, his hand drifting to her hip instead. He just barely held her, his hand resting rather than gripping.

“That's not what I'm asking, Ben!” she growled, stepping out from under his hand. “I want the truth, and I want it, _now!_ I'm not going to marry someone that can't be completely honest with me when I'm asking a very _direct_ question. Did you kill anyone else?”

Her eyes were blazing with fury, instinctively darting around should he decide to come after her. She didn't think he would, but it was an automatic fight or flight response.

“Yes,” he replied, his voice still calm and even, even as he was beginning to burn with anger. She needed to calm down. He was doing this for the _right_ reasons. For her and their child!

She felt all of the blood leach out of her face, her hands getting all clammy. Ben _had_ killed. She'd been right all along.

“How many?” she asked, her voice sounding oddly numb.

“I stopped counting,” he replied honestly. Before he was 25? It was seven. But in the last handful of years, he'd forgotten. They began to blur together. It was just a job, everyone gets numb after a while.

“And they weren't all self-defense, were they?” she asked, keeping some space in between them.

Ben sighed. Fine. She wanted real, honest answers, so she'd get them.

He brushed past her, going out to the living room where his bookshelf was. He grabbed a large, heavy tome from the top shelf ( _The Historical Political Map of Massachusetts_ , one of his mother's old college textbooks that would put anyone to sleep) and opened it, pulling a thick file from the gutted pages. He came back into their bedroom and handed it over to her.

“I am nothing if not thorough. Go ahead and read them. They're the profiles of those I have rid the world of. The pedophiles, the drug lord, all of the scum I put an end to since I was a teenager. I have _never_ murdered someone, I have simply erased the mistakes. None of these people were innocent and they _all_ had far more blood on their hands than I ever could,” he said.

Feeling the heavy weight of the file in her hands, she looked down at it, staring at the blank top that was staring back at her. Under that held information on all of his victims, everyone he'd taken the time to scout out and then take out. She didn't know how to feel, her stomach in knots, her nerves strung out. Regardless of _who_ had died, Ben had killed. He'd taken someone's life willingly and not just for self-defense. There was something different between that act and these acts.

“I'd like some time to look at these. Alone,” she whispered, looking up at him. She still didn't know what she was going to do. Was she going to call Poe and tell him to come pick Ben up? She _should._

“Of course. Take the time you need,” he said. His chest felt tight and he was torn between wanting to slam his fist through the wall and falling to her feet to cry. He loved her so much, didn't she understand that? He killed to keep the world safe. He _had_ to keep her and their baby safe!

Without another word, he turned and left the bedroom, grabbing his wallet and his keys before allowing the door to shut behind him. He left his phone behind.

Watching him go, her own throat feeling like it was hard to get any air, she finally collapsed in a heap onto their bed with the file on her lap. She skimmed her hand over the top of it, weight her options for a moment.

Why was she even looking at this? Would it really change anything? These people were dead and gone by his hands. He'd admitted to it; what did it matter if she saw their faces or read about their crimes? What would it change? Would it mean that she didn't call the police? Would it mean anything at all?

Leaning back against the pillows, she pulled her knees up and settled the folder against her thighs. Flipping it open, she began to read.

The first one listed was a child predator, and Ben had taken studious notes of the man, it would seem, posing as a child himself online to lure him in. There were transcripts and snippets of conversations, and what she read made her shudder and quickly flip to the next one. They were more of the same. Different deeds, all equally as evil and malicious.

Hours passed as she continued reading, and she flipped through the different victims, counting a total of thirty-two. Those were thirty-two confirmed killings, some of which she'd seen on the news. _Ben_ had been responsible for those.

_Ben._

Where was he at right now? What was he doing? His phone was left here, so there wasn't exactly anything she could do to check on him. Should she? What if she was just his cover? Did he actually love her or was it all pretend? But if so, why just walk away?

She set the files aside and set about to waiting for him on the couch. He'd either come back...or he wouldn't. She thought about making some dinner, but in light of recent events, decided that she wasn't very hungry.

She had a few more questions for him before she decided anything.

Grabbing her favorite blanket, she curled up into the cushions and stared blankly at the Netflix program on TV. She watched it until night fell and her eyelids drooped, and still there was no sign of Ben. Would it be weird to put out a missing persons report on a serial killer? That was the question she asked herself as she fell asleep as the next show came on.

 

* * *

 

Ben washed his hands in the sink of the gas station, hardly looking in his own eyes as the last of the blood drained away. He wasn't going to let his talk with Rey deter him from his evening plans. He's been tracking this sick fuck for months and it was his time. This one had assaulted a toddler, only four-years-old. All Ben could think about was his own child in that many years and he...well, he hadn't been _that_ messy in a while.

“ _Never kill on a clouded mind. That's how you fuck up. That's how they get you,”_ Snoke had warned.

Ben had made sure to kill Snoke with a clear mind, nice and neat.

Drying his hands, he picked up the bags containing his clothes, each article separate to avoid tracking, and made his way back to his truck. It was late and Rey would be sleeping by now. Rey…

It was his home, he had to go back. If only to see her one last time, to hear her lovely, melodic voice telling him to go. He disposed of his clothes in various garbage cans throughout the city (it was best to memorize which subdivisions had trash day when for this) and drove back home.

His heart clenched in fear of her already being gone, of her taking away their baby and never seeing him again. He sat in the parking garage, his heart hammering more than it did during the kill. He couldn't look for her car, he didn't want to face it just yet if she had. He...he needed a drink. Sighing, he pulled out of his spot and drove down the road to the shitty dive bar, Rogue One. Maybe he could face it better with a numb head. Maybe.

 

* * *

 

“You look like you could use someone to talk to,” the woman purred, leaning against the bar next to him. It wasn’t every day that a tall, attractive, _muscular_ man came into the bar with the perfect brooding personality. It would be a crying shame if Brenda didn't make a move.

“My fiancee is my confidant,” Ben immediately replied. He may not have a fiancee when he got home, but for now, he’d continue to believe in a world where Rey was waiting for him, if he was somehow so lucky. He didn’t deserve her, he never deserved her to begin with, but what if he _was_ that lucky?

“Where's she at?” The redhead asked, glancing over her shoulder. She popped her hip out a bit, showing off her legs in some daisy dukes and a crop top.

Ben took a heavy drink of his beer. “She is at home resting, as she is pregnant with my child and being pregnant is tiring. Do you have any other questions regarding my home life?” he asked, raising an eyebrow to this...person.

“I'm sure she's too tired to satisfy a man like yourself, then,” she dared, reaching out to run a finger along his arm. “I can help with that.”

She bit her lip and turned big brown eyes to him, fluttering them to be enticing.

He set his glass down with a definitive thud. “Was it the engaged or the soon-to-be-father part that confused you about how incredibly uninterested I am? Do I look like the type of man to just settle on the girl I knocked up?” he challenged.  

Brenda was hardly phased, and she plopped herself down onto the stool beside him. “You look like a man who's incredibly stressed out. I'm guessing you guys had a fight. You can rant and rave if you want, I won't tell,” she said as she slipped him a wink and a smirk. “What she doesn't know won't hurt her, right?”

“That’s the most toxic wording I’ve ever heard. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her? But what about what _I_ know? How could I ever look my soon-to-be _wife_ in the eyes again, knowing that I’d sullied myself with a common whore?” he asked, throwing the woman a withering look.

“Whore? _Whore?_ Fuck you, asshole!” she snapped, seeming to look around for a drink to splash in his face.

Apparently she had a reputation for that sort of thing here, because the bartender studiously slid the nearest glass out of range.

“Brenda, come on now. Stop bugging my guests,” the big burly man behind the counter gruffed. To Ben, he said, “Sorry, mate. She's a bit spirited.”

Ben smirked. “I’d say so. She didn’t really take the hint very nicely. I feel bad using such crass language with anyone, but she didn’t seem terribly deterred by my familial attachments.”

“She's usually not. To be fair, you're new here, so she probably thought you were looking for a good time,” the man said, watching Brenda sulk over by the music box in the corner.

Ben lifted his glass up. “This is the only good time I’m interested in having without my wife. If she’s still speaking to me, I mean. She’s found out about my sordid past and now I’ve slunk away to give her some time to sort it out. I can only hope that I’ll at least get to see our child once in a while at the end of all of this.”

“Oi, that sounds rough. 'M sorry to hear that. Y'know, when my wife threw me out a few years ago, she just needed some time to cool off. Now I don't know what your lass found out, but surely it's a hurdle you two can jump over together,” the bartender said, rubbing a cloth along the counter. “You want my advice?”

“If you’re giving, I’ll happily hear,” Ben said, watching the man intently. It comforted him somewhat to know that he wasn’t the only man who had been asked to go for a moment, although he highly doubted that this burly bartender had any idea what it was Ben was asking Rey to accept. Not forgive, but just accept.

Fixing Ben with a hard stare in return, the man said, “Go home. She can yell and scream all she wants, but if you go, she might see it as a way of you giving up. If you want 'er, go get 'er. Maybe sleep on the couch if you have to, but go home, lad. You won't find any answers at the bottom of that glass.”

Ben tipped his head back, downing the last of the amber liquid. Setting it on the counter carefully, he gave the barkeep a smirk. “I’ll let you know how it worked out then, thank you. Give my best to your wife, yeah? Let’s hope we can all hold them tonight.”

Chuckling, the large man nodded. “Aye, let's hope. Good luck, mate, and if it truly doesn't work out, you're always welcome back here.”

“I’m Ben, by the way. Ben Solo,” he said, holding his hand out.

“...Solo?” The man paused, eyes widening. “I knew you when you were a young boy. I'm Chewie, but you probably don't  remember—best friends with your father. Good man, ‘im.” He reached an enormous hand out to shake Ben's.

Ben shook the man's hand gratefully, immediately remembering. And then immediately feeling guilty. He remembered Chewie. He remembered seeing this burly man sob at his father's funeral. He remembered watching him holding his mother and the two of them sobbing. He remembered how much he'd hated himself for it.

“It's good to see you again, Chewie. It's...been a while. Maybe if Rey is still speaking to me, I can bring her by. I'm sure she'd love to meet you. She's always curious about my dad and I don't have much to tell her,” Ben admitted. Because he killed his own father, so what did he really say?

“Well, first ye gotta go patch things up with her, and then you can bring her by,” Chewie nodded, a smile crinkling his eyes, even if it couldn't really be seen behind his massive beard. “Some flowers never hurt, either.”

“Thank you, Mr. Kashyyyk. I’ll make sure to get her the best,” Ben said. He slipped a $50 on the bar for a tip and headed back out. He only had a pleasant buzz, nothing too serious. He could clear his head while he walked down to the drug store to procure their finest bouquet (the florist, he knew, would be closed at this time of night). Purchasing a mixed floral bouquet, he walked back to his truck and made his way back home.

He just prayed she was still there.


	5. Chapter 5

It was nearly past midnight when she awoke, knowing even without opening her eyes that she was still alone. She could hear the train going by off in the distance, rattling the windows with each car that zipped over the tracks.

Maybe he wasn't coming back.

Pushing herself up so that she was sitting with her knees tucked under her, she wrapped the blanket a bit more securely around her shoulders. It still smelled like him, as well as her, and she found herself burying her nose into it for a heavier whiff.

Netflix was asking if she was still watching, but she couldn't seem to bring herself to move, the dim glow of the television the only source of light in the empty apartment.

She wished he'd at least taken his phone so that she could have checked and made sure he was okay. Of course he was okay, though. He could definitely handle himself, it seemed.

Which brought her back to the whole reason they were in this situation in the first place: Ben Solo, her fiance, had killed people on purpose.

Ben took a deep breath before opening the front door, knowing that either his bubble was about to be burst or he was going to be sobbing in relief. As he unlocked the front door on their apartment and stepped into the dark stillness, he could feel his heart pounding again. She had to be there, she had to have left, she had decided it wasn’t that bad, she had packed up everything and taken her child from him forever. She…

Was in the living room.

“Rey,” he whispered. Suddenly remembering, he held the flowers forward. Like a total moron.

Her head whipped around to stare at him, eyes wide and shining in the reflective light. It was too dark for her to really see what he was holding out, and...dear god, that better not be a shovel.

Realizing that he probably looked like the crazed murderer she definitely thought he was, he moved across the room and swept down into a kneeling position before her, offering up the flowers now with a bit more finesse. But he still didn’t know what to say, he had no idea how to make her...what? Not hate him? Forgive him? Accept him?

Love him, even still?

So instead, he just looked into her eyes, his own wide and near tears.

Her fingers wrapped around the flowers slowly, the little plastic casing crinkling as she took them to settle in her lap. Still holding his gaze, she took note of the tears there, and again remembered that she'd thought sociopaths couldn't form long lasting relationships. But still...she had to ask.

With her own eyes wet, she whispered, “So this is real, then? I'm not just some pretend girlfriend to you to help you keep your cover?”

“Jesus, Rey, no. _No._ I _love_ you, so much more than I have ever loved anyone in my entire life. I asked you to _marry_ me. We’re having a _child._ A child who I have loved from the moment you told me about them. I have never been more in love with a person as I am with you, and I have never looked forward to something more than I have to our life together. It’s real, it’s sincere. I swear it, Rey. I—I’m lost without you. You’re my sun, my reason for breathing, my _everything,_ ” he professed, a few tears slipping out.

“I looked at the files,” she sniffed, wiping angrily at her eyes. She didn't want to _cry,_ but damn it, hormones were hard. “Ben, I...we need to talk,” she mumbled, tucking the flowers closer to her chest.

“Yes. Of course. Anything you want. Anything. Rey, I—yes. Okay,” he said, scrambling awkwardly to get his long limbs off the floor and onto the couch. He kept the distance, though. He didn’t want to scare her.

“You…” she began, picking at one of the tassels on the blanket, “You only go after bad people?” Lifting her head, she stared at him long and hard, looking for any hint of a lie.

“Yes. Only bad ones, ones who the justice system would either let get away or would eventually set free due to “good behavior”. There is no good behavior for these horrible people. They did things they knew were wrong but decided to do anyway,” he insisted.

“So you're some sort of vigilante, dealing out justice, then?” she asked, turning slightly to face him a bit more.

“I—you could say that, I suppose?” he replied, sitting back a bit at that. He’d never quite thought of himself like fucking _Batman,_ but if that’s what helped her…

“Just a more violent...lethal...Batman,” she mumbled, mostly to herself. “What if you get caught?”

“Then I hope that file can get _me_ out early with good behavior. I know it’s not wise to take the law into my own hands like I have been, but after what happened with Hutt, I was filled with a sense of hatred for those like him in this world and a burning need to do something about it. I knew it was risky, and after I got involved with Snoke…” he sighed, then. “Albus Snoke took me under his wing, so to say, and taught me what other evils there were in this world that needed to be eradicated. I didn’t realize until it was too late that not everyone he had me take out necessarily deserved the fates I gave them. They aren’t in that file, because the information was never mine. But once I figured out how Snoke was manipulating my pain for his own needs, I took him out, too. So, in a way, I guess I lied to you. I was _told_ that I was taking out bad people, but sometimes, jail may have done them well. The CEO’s who caused the death of workers or their customers, yes. The drug dealers, yes. The arms dealers...not all deserved it.” He looked away, knowing he just needed to get it all out. There couldn’t be any lies, not anymore.

“My father...I killed him. He was an illegal arms dealer, ran weapons from Mexico into the states. He used my _mother_ as his cover, used her political influence to shield him from being inspected too hard, from being scrutinized and caught. She nearly went to jail for him once, the one time he did get caught. He pinned it all on her, as he did almost everything. Luckily, Leia was able to get out of it. She has a squeaky clean record and a lot of money, and those two details can make a lot go away. I held my mother while she cried because of him for endless days, while she dealt with his bullshit. But he didn’t deserve to die. He should have gone to jail, he should have faced rehabilitation, he should have had the _chance._ But Snoke insisted that I remove my bias, he said that I was just as bad if I enabled it. So I-- _fuck,_ Rey, I did it. And I have hated myself every day since then. _Fuck,_ ” he said, the tears flowing in earnest as he recounted the story. He brought a hand to his chest, fingers digging in as his heart clenched with a great pain. But he deserved that pain. He only had himself to blame.

Her mind was reeling, processing the information he'd just dumped on her. He'd killed his father. If he could do that, would he kill his son or daughter? It was unpleasant to think about, and she knew without a doubt that she would protect their baby from everything, including him, if she had to.

“Ben…” she whispered, needing to both comfort him and also make her thoughts known.

Slowly, she extended her hand out to him, palm up, inviting.

He raised on shaking hand to place it in hers, sobbing still. He hadn’t cried like this since after he’d done it. He felt stupid, he felt angry, he felt...broken. But when he touched her skin, when he felt the warmth of the woman he loved, something inside him seemed to stitch back together. He could only pray to every god who hadn’t forsaken him yet that she wouldn’t just rip him apart further, not that he didn’t deserve that.

Carefully setting the flowers down on the coffee table, making sure they didn't get harmed, she turned back to him. She inched her way over to him until she was sitting in his lap, straddling him with her hand still locked in his, her other resting over his heart.

“I am only going to say this once, and know that I mean this with every inch of my heart,” she said, holding his gaze. Her own heart ached for him, but she had to say it. “I love you, and I will always love you. I'm sorry that this...Snoke persuaded you to see your father like that, and I'm not saying you will, but if you _ever_ try to harm our child because of some ill-conceived notion like that, I will _personally_ gut you like a fish. Understood?”

“I will never _ever_ harm you or our child. Ever. Or I expect you to fully take me out like the disgusting bastard I would be,” he promised her solemnly. If he wasn’t just sobbing, he had a feeling he’d be hard.

“Do you plan to _keep_ doing this?” she asked, keeping her face emotionless.

He blinked at her. He did. He really did. He’d _just_ done it, hours ago, after all. But if Rey…

Vigilante justice, or Rey? Cleansing the world, or his wife? Snuffing the life from sick fucks, or his family?

Fuck.

“If you want me to stop...Rey, I’d do anything for you,” he sighed, feeling his body completely sag at the truth of his words.

“That _isn't_ what I asked, Ben,” she said, frowning deeply.

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Rey. If you asked me to stop, I would. But if you didn’t ask, if that wasn’t a thing you required, then no,” he said.

“The reason I ask is because…” she took a deep, steadying breath, her eyes closed for a long moment. “Because I heard Batman has a sidekick.”

“Absolutely not,” he said, his back rigid and his eyes hard. “Rey, you’re _pregnant._ I will personally cut everyone down with my own two hands before I even _dreamt_ of letting you get involved in this. It’s dangerous. A lot can go wrong!”

His back wasn’t the only rigid thing, but he needed to focus on keeping her safe.

She rolled her eyes at that, sitting back with a huff. “I didn't mean right _now._ Obviously not now. But maybe in the future.”

She was just going to ignore the instant boner he had. Maybe at least until he agreed with her.

“You really want to...to do this with me? Rey, my love, you’re going to be a mother. You’re going to need to be kept as safe as possible.” He smirked then, leaning over to brush her nose with his. “I’ll take copious notes, sweetheart. You’ll have all the necessary knowledge to write your books. You don’t need to put yourself in danger like that.”

“Well, if you want to have a normal, boring date night while your mother watches the baby, then fine. We can do that, too,” she sighed. Of course he was right. She was just being stupid, but he was going to be her husband, and she just felt like something as intimate as dispatching people might be something they shared. But no, this was fine.

He kissed her softly, just a gentle peck. “As unbelievably hot as I think it is that you not only don't want to call Poe on me right now, but also want to _help,_ I can’t ever risk putting you in danger. Now, with that _said_...I bet you'd be better at those chat rooms than I ever was. How would you like to play bait?”

That was the safest way to involve her. It helped that her (non-pregnant) body was on the less than curvaceous side. She could very easily send photos of herself to entice and share. All it would take would be some childish undergarments and the pervs wouldn't even know the difference. Fuck, he bet they wouldn't even notice any stretch marks after the baby came.

“Why Ben, are you asking me to be your little lollie online?” she asked, laughing a bit. Sure, it was dark, and she'd never in her wildest dreams thought this would be her path in life, but she was glad it was with Ben.

She just had to hope he didn't get caught.

“Will you catch predators with me, Mrs. Solo?” he asked, kissing her cheeks, her jaw, her neck.

“Well, when you put it like that, how's a girl to refuse?” she smiled back, looping her arms tightly around his neck and giving a very purposeful grind down into him, where he was definitely the hardest she'd ever felt him.

“How did I ever get so lucky?” he asked as he slid his hands down to her ass, holding firm as he stood up. “I’ve always known you were the perfect woman for me. And to think, I thought you were just a territory encroacher.” He continued to kiss down her neck as he carried her to their bedroom.  

“You know, were I not actively pregnant, I might be,” she smirked back, pulling him down with her when he set her on the bed. Pulling off her shirt, she stopped him for just a second with a hand on his chest and said, “No more secrets, okay?”

“Never again.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Yes, Mom, we’re about to pull up right now. Yes, we’re—Mom— _Leia!_ Yes. Okay. Yup, see, I see you right there in the window. Yes—I—okay, I’m hanging up.”

Ben sighed as he just set his phone down, his mother’s (well-meaning) banter cut off. They were going to walk into the door in less than two minutes, he didn’t really need the play-by-play of her whole night with the kids on the phone, knowing that they’d just get the live version when they walked in the front door. Leia was fantastic with her grandchildren, no one could deny that, but she was getting more ramble-y lately and, after such a stressful evening, he wasn’t sure if he could handle it.

They’d almost fucked up. Rey had suddenly leaked through her shirt (she’d been worried that they’d been gone from Grayson for too long, she’d been commenting on her breasts hurting just before they met up with the sick fuck) and the guy got suspicious. Ben had nearly lost his cool as the guy yanked Rey’s shirt, exposing the marks on her stomach that she’d earned from giving him their two beautiful children, and he’d completely lost it as the sick fucking pedophile reared back to slap her for deceiving him. But Ben was quick and he stabbed the pervert before his hand could connect, the blade sinking into the crook of his neck and then wrenching up, slicing into muscle and skin. It was so much messier than what Ben preferred, but he needed to keep Rey safe.

Poe hadn’t been too pleased about the mess, either, but he didn’t say much. Having the officer on their side had kept them a lot safer than they were before; Poe was great at fabricating some other murder scene for their target, but he preferred things to be kept tidy. A single gunshot wound. Poison. Stabbings that _didn’t_ look like a freaked out husband defending his wife. But Poe still gave them the usual solemn nod and they were excused from the scene. He’d think of something and then call it in. With the evidence that Ben and Rey had collected on the fucking creep over the last few months, it was only too easy for the rest of the force to virtually look the other way, too. Poe had said that he’d chalk this one up to his own self defense, no big deal.

But Rey was shaken and Ben knew it. This was the closest they’d ever come to the worst possible result. It was what he’d been trying to protect her from in these last three years and tonight, he’d almost failed.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he cut the engine. His own hands had stopped shaking, but only just recently.

“I will be,” Rey nodded, taking in a deep breath. “I just need to pump better beforehand next time, is all. Stupid on my part.” She'd be kicking herself in the ass for the next week for fucking up. It really had been all her fault. “I just want to see my babies and make sure they're okay.”

He reached across the console and took her hand, bringing it up to his lips for a soft kiss. She almost smelled _too_ sterile, but they had to be positive that no traces lingered. Cars rented under fake names. Clothes they bought with cash and then disposed of. Weapons that never saw the light of day again. It was some of the only good things that Snoke ever taught him.

“We’ve made the world just a bit safer for them tonight. I’m sorry I almost—I wish I would have been faster,” he said, squeezing her hand just a bit tighter, rubbing his cheek to it.

“You're perfect, Ben. I love you so much, and I'm grateful for you every single day,” she said, leaning over to kiss him, a tender, loving thing. “Now come on, before your mom comes out here to get us.”

She hopped out of the car and met with him around the front, immediately slipping her hand into his again to squeeze.

Leia was always insisting they never knock, wanting them to feel comfortable enough to just enter like it was their own home. As they pushed the door open and stepped in, they were immediately greeted by Leia, holding a sleeping Grayson in her arms. She was rocking him gently, smiling up at them.

“Did you guys have a nice time?” Leia asked softly, not wanting to wake the baby.

“The waiter nearly dropped Rey’s food on her, but the movie was good,” Ben lied smoothly, leaning down to kiss his mother’s cheek. He smiled down at his sleeping son and kissed him on the head. “Where’s Nova? Did she make it to a bed this time or is she passed out on the couch?”

“Daddy,” a mostly-sleepy but nearly enthused voice said.

Ben rolled his eyes. Leia was great with the kids, but she always caved whenever his three-year-old asked to stay up _just_ a bit more to watch just _one_ more Disney movie.

“Hiya, sweetie. Did you have fun with Grandma?” he asked, dropping down to his knees and opening his arms for his sleepy daughter.

Nova rubbed her eyes as she shuffled forward in her little pink unicorn slippers, her long, dark brown hair a mess more than usual (she hated having her curls brushed by anyone except Rey). She practically fell into her dad’s arms, a big yawn cutting through her “yes”. Ben just smiled and lifted her up, kissing her head. It made him feel happier, a sense of peace flooding him to be holding her so close. He and Rey did what they did for their kids, for this moment. It was so that they could stay this sweet and innocent for as long as possible. Forever, if he had his way.

As Rey gently extracted their son from Leia, she smiled softly as he stirred and immediately started looking for something to eat.

“I'll just feed him really quickly and then we can head home, if you want,” she said to Ben.

They'd moved out of their single-bedroom apartment before Nova had been born, and now resided in a little ranch-style family home with a big backyard. They'd recently installed a playground set for Nova to play on, and it had been designed to last for a long time. Long enough for Grayson to get his fair share of use out of it, as well.

Ben laid a hand on the small of Rey’s back, gently guiding her into Leia’s living room so that she could feed Grayson comfortably. He settled onto the couch, cradling Nova to his chest. He’d dispose of a hundred, a thousand more creeps if it meant he could continue having moments like these for the rest of his life. Nothing made him happier than seeing his whole family looking happy, everyone safe and sated.

“Oh, Rey, your publisher called. _The New York Times_ wants to do an article on you. They say your newest book is the best selling murder mystery novel in the last thirty years,” Leia said as she settled in her arm chair. Han’s chair, really. “I have to say that it gave me the creeps to read, no offense. The details, though, are just so, so gruesome. I can’t believe you don’t have nightmares after all those horrible things Detective Dameron must tell you for you to get all of those insane details in there.”

Rey just shrugged, smiling fondly down at her son as she answered, “Hey, when you've got a husband as amazing as mine, you know you can count on him in the middle of the night to soothe those nightmares.”

She'd had a lot in the beginning, not nearly as desensitized as Ben was, and he'd offered her an out several times, but she'd refused, saying it was okay. As long as he held her at night, she would be okay. But those details _did_ come in handy, and she was really proud of her books. She'd released two in the past three years and was already working on a series. The royalties were incredible, really, and it was hard to believe they'd ever had any money troubles.

“And Ben, I managed to get out of her that yours is coming along nicely, too?” Leia asked with a smirk.

Ben had taken up writing again as well, although his stories were less graphic than Rey’s. He had enough of graphic details in his real life, so he instead wrote thrillers: less gore, but still all the suspense and death. It had taken a while to get back into the swing of things, but Rey truly had a great talent and she had helped him along. Her publisher was more than happy to take him on as a client and he was looking to publish in the next few months.

“I’m trying. Rey’s got all of the talent, but I’ve got to bring something to the table besides my devastating good looks,” he smirked softly, careful not to wake Nova.

Rey refrained from making a comment. She knew exactly what he brought to the table, and she'd be lying if she said that “nights out” together didn't do it for her. She liked seeing Ben in his element, so strong and passionate as he took out the world's trash. Had these nights not had to become actual crime scenes for Poe, she might have suggested taking several moments to themselves right next to their prize. Oh well—their SUV was always a nice place for a quickie.

Once Grayson was milk drunk and happy, they kissed Leia good night and made the short drive home. Ben felt weary but satisfied. A quick text from Poe confirmed that all was well, and he knew that he’d be waking up to news about another pedophile “found dead” and how his victims were feeling relief. The news was a bit quirky about it, noting the “steady stream” of deaths of the same type, “a serial killer with a conscious”, as they’d said at one point. Ben liked that.

Grayson was laid down first, peaceful little snores that sounded so much like Rey’s signaling his deep sleep. When he stepped into Nova’s room, he felt his heart clench in the best way to see Rey sitting up in her bed with her, his little princess fast asleep against her mother’s side while his beautiful queen snoozed as well. He snapped a quick photo on his phone before carefully extracting the two from each other, kissing Nova goodnight before carrying his wife to their room.

He undressed Rey slowly, kissing her as he exposed her skin. It wasn’t sexual so much as it was reverence, a display of his utter love and devotion to her. Okay, and it was sexual. They’d only been able to have sex again for a few weeks now, and the quickie in the back of the SUV tonight had been more about being grateful that they’d lived through this experience than celebrating their win against evil. Now they could take their time. Now he could worship his partner in crime.

Stirring slightly under the gentle touches, Rey reached down to card her fingers through her husband's hair. “Get up here and make love to me, Ben,” she murmured sleepily, a happy little smile on her lips.

“Right away,” he grinned, kissing his way up her body, from stomach to sternum. “I love you so much, Rey.”

“I love you more,” she replied, sealing her lips against his as he got close enough.

They loved each other more than anything else, and tomorrow, when the sun rose, they'd love each other even more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This was a collaboration between Eskay and I that's just been sitting in docs for a while now. Hope you enjoyed!


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